


Brace for it

by Builder



Series: Canon ships and all that jazz [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fever, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 18:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15467718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: “Your hands are cold,” Nat complains.“Naw, you’re warm,” Bruce says, retracting his touch. He pushes the blankets down to his waist, careful not to let in cool air. “Lemme get you some ibuprofen. Maybe some tea. You like tea, right?”“Yeah, I like tea.” Nat smiles weakly.____________________The first time someone gets sick is a milestone for a relationship.  And it's only made more complicated when you live in a tower of superheroes.





	Brace for it

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @builder051

At first, Bruce is surprised to wake to another body beside him in bed. Once he rolls over and takes in the spray of red hair spread out over the pillow, he grins. He slips his arm around Nat’s shoulders and nuzzles the back of her neck.

“Morning,” he says.

“Hm.” Nat sniffs and leans back against Bruce’s chest. “Morning.” The word comes out as a rasp.

“You ok?” Bruce asks. He squeezes Nat’s shoulder, then brushes a lock of hair away from her cheek. He can feel the heat coming off her, but he tucks his knuckles against her jaw to be sure.

“Hey, stop.” Nat brushes him off and turns facedown, yanking the covers up to her ears.

“You’re burning up,” Bruce says, wishing he didn’t sound so cliché. “Why didn’t you say you felt sick?”

“I don’t.” Nat’s voice is muffled by the pillow. “I’m fine.”

“Nat.” Bruce shakes his head. He squints at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep in past nine.”

“It’s—what?” Nat abruptly sits up on her knees, the quilt a cape around her shoulders. Her eyes are puffy and still half-closed, and pink fever spots bloom on her pale cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce says. “If you need to sleep, you need to sleep.”

“I should’ve been in the gym hours ago,” Nat murmurs. She rubs her temple with the heel of her hand. “Everybody else is probably done by now…”

“It’s ok to take a day off.” Bruce pats the pillow, inviting her to lie back down. “Or a sick day. How bad’s the headache?”

Nat drops back to the mattress, curling on her side with her knees up as a barrier between her and Bruce. “’S alright.”

Bruce shakes his head. “You don’t have to lie to me, Nat.”

“Ok, fine.” She rolls her eyes, but ends up closing them. “It fucking hurts.”

“Where?”

“Hm…” Nat opens her eyes long enough to find Bruce’s hand. She circles his wrist in a delicate grip and guides his fingers up to a spot just outside her right eyebrow.

“Right there?” Bruce moves his thumb in gentle circles around the area.

“Your hands are cold,” Nat complains.

“Naw, you’re warm,” Bruce says, retracting his touch. He pushes the blankets down to his waist, careful not to let in cool air. “Lemme get you some ibuprofen. Maybe some tea. You like tea, right?”

“Yeah, I like tea.” Nat smiles weakly.

“Ok. Good.” Bruce slips out of bed and reaches for the robe on the back of his desk chair. He pulls it on over his boxers and t-shirt, then looks back to Nat. “Don’t go anywhere, ok?”

“You’re bossy.” She smiles.

“No, I’m concerned,” Bruce corrects her. But he grins back.

“I’ll be here,” Nat says, sliding over to Bruce’s side of the bed.

“Good.”

Bruce takes the elevator down to the kitchen. He wonders if Nat would prefer peppermint tea or ginger. He mentally berates himself for not asking.

The elevator doors slide open, and Bruce steps out, still running through the benefits of various herbal brews. Tony’s at the counter, tapping away on a laptop and sipping a cup of coffee, and Thor’s staring down the toaster with a plate ready in his hands.

“Hey. Good morning,” Bruce says, opening a cabinet and pulling out two mugs. He pours hot water from the coffee machine, then surveys the selection of tea bags.

“It is indeed a fine morning,” Thor replies in a booming voice. The toaster dings and two golden pop tarts spring up. Thor reaches for the steaming pastries. “Would you care for some?” he asks Bruce. “Miss Potts has furnished us with several new flavors.”

“Costco variety pack,” Tony explains, briefly looking up from his work. “It’s the simple pleasures, right?”

“Indeed.” Thor nods fervently.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” Bruce says. He spoons honey into the mugs, then opens the junk drawer and begins to root around.

“What are you searching for?” Thor asks, appearing at Bruce’s shoulder.

“Um,” Bruce hesitates. There’s a bottle of Tums nestled in the mess of office supplies and spare keys, but nothing for a fever. “Ibuprofen?”

“Are you unwell?” Thor looks Bruce up and down. “I thought the presence of your green friend would keep you from contracting earthly diseases.”

“It, uh, doesn’t quite work like that,” Bruce mutters. “I’m fine, but, um…” He trails off.

“It’s in the bathroom upstairs,” Tony says, his eyes fixed on his computer screen. “Tell Nat we hope she feels better.” He shoots Bruce a knowing look. “But she’s still slacking.”

“Lady Natasha is ill? Convey to her my deepest sympathies,” Thor jumps in. “If I can be of any assistance—”

“Yeah, no. He’s got it under control,” Tony cuts him off.

Heat rises in Bruce’s cheeks. He closes the drawer and takes the mugs of tea. “Yeah, ok.” He doesn’t make eye contact with either of them. “I will.”


End file.
